I can never tell what any of the frames look like on me given I can’t see much of anything clearly without wearing my prescription glasses.

That is why Sharon Gebhardt came close to qualifying for sainthood on Monday.

Sharon is the office manager for Dr. Michael Laveri, a man who can attest to the fact if you see my driving down the street without my glasses on that it might be wise to run for your life.

Everything went well with the exam. I have very healthy eyes except for the fact I can’t see well with them. One out of two isn’t bad.

I didn’t really need new glasses as my prescription didn’t change. But after years of wearing glasses I’ve got into the habit of retiring a pair every year as back-up. It’s a smart move as you never know when a klutz like me is going to render a pair of eyeglasses useless.

For years my frame selection was a snap. I preferred what I called “the Barry Goldwater frames” that are a spitting image of what the Arizona U.S. Senator used to wear as well as being similar to standard Army issue.

But then instead of having perhaps a dozen or so true men’s frames, eyeglass manufacturers started acting like Nike. Why give guys four or so basic choices when you can confuse them with a couple hundred and charge them accordingly?

After years of trying not to be vain picking out frames mainly because I couldn’t tell what I was looking at and the fact I’m basically just happy to see, I got a bit indecisive.

It might have something to do with a middle age crisis, that is if being 58 is still considered middle age. To some, 60 may be the new 40, but most of the world – those under 30 – view approaching 60 as being prehistoric since folks our age tend to babble about things such as 45 cents for a gallon of gasoline, typewriters, and people actually walking around without their noses buried in a smartphone.

Monday I was worried about looks for some reason.

Let me be clear. I have always tried to avoid glasses that make my face look fat. Unfortunately for years, frame manufacturers were hell-bent on making rectangle metal frames that made Ben Franklin’s standard specs look gargantuan by comparison. Then they went into their Dennis Rodman phase where almost every frame they offered looked like it was designed by a wino with a neon fetish that had been without sleep for five days after a week-long drunk.

So there I was trying to decide between frames by Banana Republic, Nike and god knows what other manufacturer whose main area of expertise wasn’t built on durable eyewear. Of course they looked OK when I was looking at them in my hands but once they were on my face and I was looking in a mirror I might as well have been looking at an abstract by Picasso

It got worse. I started entertaining the thought of selecting colors other than black – navy blue, brown and dark gray.

I was beginning to feel like a Russian consumer from Siberia turned lose in Target for the first time. The more options I looked at, the further I got from a decision.

Sharon was patient and professional the entire time.

On the other hand I was getting more indecisive.

My choice of colors and styles in clothes are about as predictable as you can get – dark blues, blacks and deep charcoal grays.

The reason is simple. Before I became half the man I used to be – I once tipped the scales at 320 pounds – I had gotten selecting colors and how they make other people perceive your size down to an art. To this day, once every seven or so months, I will break down and buy a shirt that deviates from those three colors. While I like it when I try it on in the store, I wear it once, become self-conscience and vow never to deviate from the basic colors again.

I realized I had made a mistake in wanting to expand my choices.

So I retreated back to the first frame that I thought I liked.

I apologized. Sharon said it was no problem.

I was still caught in a quandary. I liked the idea of navy blue frames but I couldn’t picture myself not wearing black. But then again navy blue is one of the three colors that in my mind don’t make me look fat.

If you have a hard time understanding what I’m saying, then you’ve never been fat. I will always perceive myself as a 320-pound person even though I weigh 168 pounds. It’s kind of like an alcoholic. You never stop being one even if you haven’t touched a drink for 30 years.

I actually found myself explaining that to Sharon. I guess at 58 some things are no longer embarrassing to share.

The plan she came up with was to order the frame I settled on in black and in navy blue. When they come in I’ll try the navy blue frame with prescription lenses in them. If I don’t like what I see, she’ll pop them out and put them in the black frame.

Time will tell if I’m in the throes of a mid-life crisis. If I am, I’ll probably become smitten with the navy blue frames.